Feeling Inspired
Right around the end of September every year, I get bitten by the bug of inspiration. It generally bites without warning, triggered by some random sentence in a book by Stewart Edward White or James Oliver Curwood, an autumn trip to the Adirondacks of NY, or an old black-and-white video of Swedish clog-makers at work. Symptoms of infection include hours spent researching old, obscure handcraft methods, scouring online used-book sources for lost titles, and gathering materials for wintertime workshop nights (stuff like this). A few years ago, the obsession was Adirondack guideboats. Before that, it was restoring and rehanging old axe heads. The ubiquitous spoon carving. Canoe paddles. Hickory self bows. You get the picture. This malady usually runs its course over the...